Evil Walks
by Constance Bleu
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester are not the only hunters on Lilith's hit list. Twenty years ago, Wyatt O'Connell accomplished something no one was able to before: he sent Lilith back to the pit. Retired and living the American dream, Wyatt's past has finally coming back to haunt him; thrusting his only daughter Ada into a world he swore on his life she would never know.
1. Chapter 1

Evil Walks

Chapter 1

"Wyatt, she will be here in forty-five minutes!" Elle exclaimed from the kitchen of their two story farm house. The beautiful woman of fifty-three didn't look a day over thirty despite the silver in her long dark hair. She was currently mixing a salad in a large bowl, she had been preparing all morning for her step-daughters return from college. How she missed her Addy. Although she wasn't her daughter by blood it did not stop Elle from loving and caring for Ada as if she were her own.

Twenty years ago when Wyatt O'Connell came into her life it was not on pleasant circumstances. It was the furthest thing from pleasant. Her child was possessed by a demon, she was keeping Elle and her other daughter captive in their old basement. Living in constant fear of a brutal death, of being ripped to pieces by her own 4 year old. Her daughter Nan could do things, unnatural things: make objects move with a flick of her tiny wrist, turn her normally green eyes white. She did not walk like Nan, talk like Nan, nothing about that little girl was any part of her baby girl Nan.

Then Wyatt came riding into her home on his white horse. He saved them, her tiny little family, saved them from a horrible, terrible fate. Saved them from slaughter, torture, from having their skin peeled from their flesh while they were still breathing, from all kinds of unimaginable tortures. It was unnerving to say the least to see her little girl acting as if she were a grown woman. There was a look in her eye that spoke of the perverse acts she had committed, locked away inside a tiny little girl.

'Its over now.' Elle reminded herself, shaking off a shudder as went down memory lane. She placed the bowl of salad in the center of the table and stepped back to observe her work. Her eyebrow quirked as she thought she might have gone overboard. The long cherrywood table held plates and bowls of different sizes contained within them Addy's favorite foods. Mac and cheese, cheese sticks, tuna sandwiches, fried mushrooms. It was quite the eclectic luncheon the O'Connell family would be having but no matter, it was all worth it. Elle checked her clockhouse on the wall and sighed when she realized Addy and the girls would be home in thirty minutes and Wyatt had yet to show himself.

"Wyatt O'Connell!" She yelled walking over to the stair leading to the second floor.

"If you are not down here in approximately three minutes-"

"All right! Jesus woman I am coming!" Hollered back the missing patriarch. She smirked, mission complete.

It was deep, gravelly baritone that came the second floor, he sounded as if he were slightly flustered. As well he should be, his only daughter was coming home and last time she made the trek to their small town she had a tattoo covered boyfriend in tow. Before that it was a tongue piercing, and before that it was with a baby, luckily it wasn't hers. "Thank god." Elle muttered with a snort of laughter. Addy wasn't a troublemaker, she was just liked to help people and was slightly naive. She left home for college a young girl and it seems each time she came home for a visit she grew into a woman little by little.

She wouldn't lie to herself, she was nervous. Elle kept fiddling with the dishes on the table, turning them ever so slightly to the left or right trying to make everything perfect. Loud, heavy footfalls could be heard from her place in the formal dining room. It was the unmistakable sound of her husband trudging his way down their stairs and the quiet indiscernible mutters. Turning around she saw him coming to her tugging on the tie around his neck. His wife let out a quiet giggle as she saw Wyatt clearly struggle with his tie.

"Come here." She gestured with her outstretched hands and loving grin. Wyatt pouted as if he were an 8 year old boy and flopped his hands down, giving up.

He sighed, "God I hate these things Elle. You're my wife, you are supposed to love me why do you torture me?"

Elle laughed outright while she successfully fixed his tie. "Because…." She began while running her hands over the black blazer she also made him wear, "I am your wife, I'm supposed to torture you."

She took a step back with a smile to admire him. Wyatt O'Connell was ruggedly handsome man especially now wearing blue jeans he filled out incredibly well paired with a blue and white flannel button down. He was 6'2 with broad shoulders, a killer smile that was completed by a full beard. Elle was fully aware of how lucky she was to be with the man every woman in their small town wanted. The things some of the women would do to catch his attention, it was embarrassing for them and hilarious for her.

She walked around him and ran her hands over the blazer, smoothing out the lines and picking off stray lint. In all honesty, it was simply an excuse to feel his strong back and the ripples of muscles in his arms revealing a power that lays dormant. Waiting for a reason to spring into action, like a lion hiding in the tall grass to camouflage itself hungrily awaiting its prey.

He whistled as he stepped away from her to inspect her project.

"Wow baby, you certainly outdid yourself this time." he reached for a fried mushroom but was denied when Elle slapped his hand with practiced swiftness that comes from being a wife and mother.

Wyatt chuckled and ducked away from her. They both shared a laugh when suddenly Wyatt got a playful glint in his eye. Elle's breath hitched as she knew what was to come, she watched her husband stay perfectly still and feint to his left before charging her. She yelped loudly and took off around the other side of the table in an effort to escape his long arms however it was futile. His long legs enabled him to capture his gorgeous wife in his strong arms. The laughter from the married couple was deafening. Even after 20 years he was still mad for her, adored her smile, and longed for the feel of her body pressed against his own.

He turned her around to face him intent on stealing a kiss when the doorbell rang. They both sighed from disappointment but Wyatt quickly brought her lips to his before she would slip from his grasp.

She chortled into his mouth and gave him a shove as she moved past him towards the front door. With his towering 6'2 frame it was like pushing a boulder, but he moved aside anyway letting her have this victory. Once Wyatt was sure she was out of sight, he snuck a fried mushroom and ate it hastily before she returned, enjoying his own victory.

Straightening her navy blue polkadot blouse, the dark haired beauty made her way through the foyer to the oak door. She briefly wondered why her girls would be knocking on the door instead of walking straight in, she turned the knob and opened the door with a huge smile expecting to see her beautiful Addy at long last. In place of where her daughters should have been was a tall man in a business-like suit, he gave her a chilling smile which wiped the warm one right off Elle's face.

She furrowed her brow in confusion and asked, "Can I help you?"

The man gave a small chuckle and fiddled with his cuff links before answering, "Why yes, yes you can..."

When Elle tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at his ambiguous answer, the man lifted his right hand higher and said, "You can die." Then flicked his wrist every so slightly and before the lovely woman could even comprehend what he had said to her, she crumpled to the ground dead.

The stranger looked down at her body and shook out his shoulders before stepping over the late Mrs. O'Connell ever so casually. He looked around the country home wondering where his true quarry was exactly. One down four to go, he thought to himself. The consciousness of the man he was possessing was inside his mind, horrified at what he had seen through demon eyes. The demon shut him up and sent him to a dark corner in the brain, _don't get ahead of yourself Charlie-Boy, the worst has yet to come, _the demon communicated to the poor man who found himself a prisoner of his own mind, unable to stop the tragedies that were about to commence.

* * *

_Meanwhile across town at the train station_

With airplanes today, why would anyone want to travel by train? People who were afraid of flying thats who. It was something about being 30,000 feet in the air that just didn't sit well in the stomach of Ada O'Connell, so here she was on a two-day train ride that would have probably been a three hour plane ride. Her step-mother Elle, had been bugging Ada about coming home for Thanksgiving holiday which is why she was currently sitting in front of the station waiting for her younger sisters to pick her up. _Four days,_ she kept repeating to herself, _only four days and then I'm gone, thats it! _

Although that was easier said than done, if Elle had it her way Ada would be going to the local college and still living at home. Thank goodness for a scholarship which sent her far away from her father. Now, she love her father no doubt and in truth he was a great father, but Ada did not understand that man's overbearing nature. His constant need to know every place she went, who she was with and when she would be returning home. She was 26 years old, she needed her space and privacy, two things Wyatt O'Connell never afforded her. Although she couldn't wait to see the expression on his face when he saw her new tattoo. She smirked as the memory of his face when she came home with a tongue piercing came into her mind.

Ada had never seen her father's face get so red, Elle had to keep reminding the grown man to breathe or he would have a stroke. The young woman let out a small laugh, she had ended up letting the hole in her tongue close when it began to cause more trouble than it was worth. But now, there is no getting rid of a tattoo, it was in her skin forever. There was a small glint of pride in her eye when she began to think of the futility the old man would feel after he caught a glimpse of the ink on her skin. The tattoo was an homage to her birth mother who died during the labor of bringing Ada into the world. Tattoed on the inside of her right wrist was the initials JS 1980, her mother Josephine Singer died on Sept. 15, 1980.

It's a heavy weight on the shoulders of a child when their mother died so they could live. Every year on her birthday there is a brief moment of celebration followed by a supreme amount of guilt for celebrating the death of her own mother. The brunette shook her head trying to clear the fog of distress from her mind before her sisters arrived.

A loud blast of music came within earshot and the sound of Wilson Phillips was the tell tale sign that her sisters were close and her youngest sister Nan was driving.

Nanny was brilliant, kind, with a overdeveloped caring nature however, she was in all sense of the phrase...a terrible driver. So horrible that she never gained her drivers license, even at the age of 24 Nan could only _legally_ drive with a licensed driver in the front seat. It was something no one in her family was willing to volunteer for and rock-paper-scissors would determine who would be riding shotgun while holding on for dear life. Fortunately for the parents, today Faye drew the short straw therefore when the old Grand Wagoneer came to complete stop Faye flung herself from the vehicle and slammed the door closed. Ada stood still to witness the two sisters quarrel, she saw Faye gesturing wildly and heard the raised voices coming from inside the cab. Ada heaved a sigh and lifted her suitcase filled with enough belongings for the four day v_acation _and trekked over to her step-sisters who gained themselves some curious yet annoyed onlookers.

Faye adjusted the beanie on her head that was made to resemble a panda; although why should would wear that cap, which was intended for winter, paired with a blue jean skirt and light blue flats was kind of redundant. Despite the season being mid-fall, here in Texas it still felt like the 80s given the sun was out in full swing at the top of the sky. Suddenly, Ada felt severely underdressed with her ripped blue jeans, charcoal calf-length boots and oversized grey t-shirt, it was travel attire not black-tie.

The oldest of the trio hurried over to the old jeep to put a stop to the bickering however, she was also more than a little excited to see her younger sisters.

Faye pulled on her black shirt, tucking it back into her blue jean skirt, "Red means stop Nan! Stop! I don't care where you are-" She began but was interrupted by the young large eyed woman.

"I did stop! I stopped, you were too busy rubbernecking the construction guys to notice." Nan fired back, pointing her finger in accusation.

"Rubbernecking?! Rubbernecking?!" Faye outraged her brown eyes flashing as she placed her delicate hands on the window frame of the car door.

"Yeah! Rubbernecking, I thought your head was gonna twist off completely!" The younger woman argued while twisting her own head, more than likely over exaggerating the entire situation.

Ada was not sure it was possible for Faye to look more insulted than she was at that moment. There was no denying that Faye was a beautiful young woman, she was fit as a fiddle with long dark brown hair, defined cheekbones and a wonderful smile that turned men into putty. Faye was a former beauty queen, Cheerleader Captain, Prom and Homecoming Queen, basically any award for popularity was won by Faye O'Connell while she was in school. People found it incredibly difficult not to like her, although their younger sister Nan certainly found a way.

Although, what pair of sisters truly got along in every aspect of their lives?

Faye and Nan Marks were two sides of the same coin, Faye the Beauty and Nan the Philanthropist. Though Nan was just as beautiful as her older sister, she did not put any stock in the materialist outer shell; instead she believed people should put more focus on their inside. She volunteered at animals shelters, soup kitchens, tutors young children at the library, Nan simply likes to help people. Ada has always respected her younger step sister for her desire to heal the world and expect nothing in return. Clearing her throat loudly, both Marks girls turned to their older stepsister as if they noticed her for the first time.

"Are you being a slut again, Faye?" Ada asked with a small smirk.

"No!"

"Yes!" Both girls shouted simultaneously making Ada laugh hard bending at the waist to hold herself up with hands on her knees. This started a chain reaction which had Nan joining her but Faye remained firm as the other women laughed at her expense.

"Alright, knock it off!" Faye whined. Finally catching their breath, both apologetic, the subject was dropped but would not remain so for long.

Ada smiled and opened her arms waiting for the younger woman to accept her hug. Returning her smile, Faye childishly skipped into Ada's awaiting arms and hugged tight. She truly was happy to see Addy, happy to finally have their little family complete, but mostly because now Wyatt will have someone else to focus on rather than herself. That man isn't happy unless he is being a Dad in all sense of the word, which means keeping an extremely close eye on his girls. After Ada left, it seemed that Wyatt had become obsolete, he had realized that he wasn't the center of his little girl's universe anymore and needed to something to fill the void Ada left behind. Luckily, he had two other daughters to fuss over.

Breaking apart from each other, Faye began to look around curiously. When questioned about it she simply replied, "I'm looking for that cutie pie you mentioned a few weeks back."

"Oh yeah," Ada winced, "Yeah, that's over." She bent to pick up her suitcase and started for the car, hoping Faye won't bug her for the details.

"What?! What happened? Tell me everything." And there it was, the evidence that Ada was truly home now that her younger sister was looking to gossip about boys.

Getting into the Wagoneer, Ada just ignored her prying and shut the door. The only cue Faye needed to signify the conversation was officially closed. The other two girls shared a look as Faye climbed into the front seat and they set out on the road towards home. The ride was absent of conversation, the only sound that filled the vehicle was that of Wilson Phillips and drumming of Nan's slim fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. Until Faye had finally had enough awkward silence and turned the dial on the radio down, lowering the volume.

"You know what?" Faye started while turning in her seat to look at Ada. "I never liked that guy. He just screamed, I'm a dick. You know?" Closing her eyes, Ada reminded herself to breathe and before she could reply a loud groan was heard from Nan.

"Oh my goodness, Faye! She doesn't want to talk about it." Nan admonished, glancing at Faye.

Of course Faye wanted to make it all better. Any time the girls were dumped, she would swoop in and fill their ears with encourage. How the guy as a dick, a dumbass, not even good looking, probably has a tiny thing, can't handle a strong woman, is scared of their independence. Things of that nature, but then again Faye had never been the dumpee, only the dumper. She couldn't possibly understand how much it hurts when a person calls it quits, offers no reason why or just completely stops calling all together and appears to drop off the face of the earth.

Which exactly what Derek did, from one day to the next he just stopped calling, ignored her phone calls, text messages, even emails. Ada was ashamed to admit that it took her a full week before she realized that Derek had froze her out instead of breaking up to her face, hell she would have accepted a break up over the phone or through email. Although all of those options seemed to complicated for Derek, instead he choose to cut off contact hoping she would get the message. Well message fucking received.

Ada shook her head, her long loose curls flying in the motion, trying to rid herself of the memories. It's over and done with, let it go. It seemed during her inner reflection period, the sisters in the front never missed a beat in their argument.

"I'm just saying that she shouldn't let it get to her. She can do so much better." Faye argued, throwing a hand in the back towards Ada.

Nan scoffs, "Well of course but she doesn't need you rubbing salt in the wound by harping on it."

"I'm not harping! I'm just saying-" Their voices were raising over each others, trying to prove their point.

"Yeah, you're always _just saying_ the wrong thing!" The sisters locked eyes and caused Nan to swerve onto the shoulder of the road due to not paying attention to the road. Driving over the dirt on the right side of the vehicle, all the girls shouted in fear. Putting the wagoneer back on the road a collective sigh of relief filled the air.

Sitting forward to lean between the two seats Ada queried, "Why are you driving?" Eyeing Nan as she remained focused on the road ahead.

A snort was heard from Faye and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Looking just a bit sheepish, the driver answered quietly, "Wyatt says I need the practice."

Ada sat back into her seat and chewed on her bottom lip. '_Good call dad.'_ She thought to herself. Nan really did try to become a better driver, but the poor thing was always getting distracted. She tried not to laugh, she really did as she shook her head and restrained from smiling. Then another loud snort from Faye was all it took for them both to completely lose their composure and laugh loudly. It was not long before all three women were laughing together, the previous argument instantly forgotten.

It was good to be home.

* * *

He killed them. He had killed them all. His wife, his daughters, they were all dead because of him.

Wyatt crawled as best he could through shattered porcelain plates, his Elle's favorite china, trying to get to his gun. If he could get to his gun, he could shoot the bastard, stall him long enough to finish the exorcism and send his ass back to the pit.

Moments after Elle answered the door, he was caught unawares still munching on fried mushrooms. Heavy footsteps drew his attention away from the spread on the table to a tall man, not as tall as himself but clearly taller than most. This man with dark brown hair slicked back was meddling with his cuff links when he gave Wyatt a large toothy smile. As he stood to question this unknown man inside his home, the strangers brown eyes flashed to solid pitch black.

It took Wyatt a moment to process what he had seen. Nearly twenty years had passed since he left that life behind, since he gave it up for the woman and children he loved, since he had seen his last demon. Just as he shot from his chair, the stranger shoved his right hand out and pushed Wyatt into the dining room wall without getting within six feet of him. Though knowing it was futile, he tried with everything he had to move, to kick this son of a bitch's ass.

"You have a lovely wife." The demon complimented smiling still. It was then Wyatt remembered his wife Elle had answered the door, but he never heard her voice. It was quiet, too quiet. Narrowing his eyes at the stranger, Wyatt struggled even more needing to get to his wife.

"If you touch her-" Before he could finish his threat, the demon flicked his wrist again and Wyatt's jaw promptly closed against his will. He couldn't talk, he couldn't move, Elle was no where he could see, he was fucked.

"Calm yourself Mr. O'Connell." The creature soothed as he approached. Placing his left hand onto the hunters right shoulder in an almost friendly manner, the demon gave him a charming smile, "I promise you, I haven't touched her."

And who said demons lie? It was the Satan's honest truth. Sure the beautiful woman laid dead in the doorway from a broken neck, hell it was practically twisted 180 degrees, but he never once put a finger on her. Squeezing the prone man's shoulder, the demon stepped away and surveyed the table covered with delicious food as if he were invited. Selecting a small chicken salad sandwich, he turned back to Wyatt and took a bite, his eyebrows shot up in surprised approval. The woman was a good cook, what a waste.

"Now," He began after eating the small sandwich. "I only have one question. You answer it and I'll be on my way." The demon walked to the chair seated at the head of the table, Wyatt's own seat as head of the household, and sat down with ease. "No muss, no fuss, and we both go on about our day."

Leaning forward, he clasped his large hands together and touched the steepled fingers to his lips, allowing a small pause for Wyatt to consider the offer. Not that he could very well refuse, but it was common courtesy, he may be a murderous demon, but...he still had his manners.

"Where is the knife?" Locking his eyes with the still frozen hunter, he spoke very deliberately. Both men knew to which knife he was referring, it didn't need to be said aloud. This knife was the equivalent to the Colt, it had the ability to kill demons. However, it was well known who currently possessed the Colt, but it was imperative to the higher ups that the knife be acquired. After months on babysitting detail, it felt nice to selected for the high priority jobs, finally his work was being recognized.

A moment passed before the stranger waved his hand and Wyatt felt his jaw open. Steeling himself before answering Wyatt knew he had little time. His girls would be home soon and if the demon was still here when that happened, everyone would mostly certainly die. Tragic as it was, Wyatt knew the moment the stranger's eyes flashed black both he and Elle were dead. But he could still save his girls.

Taking a long breath in, Wyatt exhaled and answered, "Go fuck yourself."

The friendly smile which graced the demon possessed man's face disappeared leaving a cold, empty expression. The table laden with food, set to perfection, flew across the dining room allowing for the china plates to shatter on the floor, the food to litter the ground, and the chairs to splinter apart into chunks of wood.

The demon charged at Wyatt and squeezed at his neck with barely constrained rage, he can't talk if he is dead. "That," the demon spoke quietly, trying to keep his voice from shaking with fury. "Was the wrong answer."

The hunter stared back at him, brown eyes bore into solid black, he had accepted his fate. Wyatt firmly believed the moment you choose to hunt creature that hunt the living is the moment you accept your own death. Being born into a legacy of hunters only meant he was resigned to his death from a young age, taught not to fear death, to expect it, it kept you sharp, kept you from dying.

"You hunters," The demon laughed while shaking his head in astonishment. "Why can you never make an intelligent decision? I asked one question, just one and you couldn't give me a straight answer." Licking his lips, the demon let go of his grip on Wyatt's neck and straightened his suit, composing himself before he was going to undoubtedly continue.

Acting fast, Wyatt began the incantation to exorsize. He got five words in before his stomach was being ripped open. The hand of the demon was wrist deep in his gut, spraying blood onto the crisp and once clean shirt Elle made him put on that morning. White hot pain stopped the words in his mouth as warm blood leaked from the large hole in his flesh.

A scream tore from his throat when the demon's wrist was pulled from inside Wyatt's body, the tall stranger bent at his waist to pick a stray cloth napkin from off the floor and proceeded to clean his left hand coated in hunter blood. Wiping his hand of blood the demon fumed, "Well now we got that out of the way, we can get down to the nitty gritty." Finishing as best he could, he threw the blood stained napkin at Wyatt's face as the man hollered out in torment unable to hold back his pain.

"I need you to stop screaming and listen very closely." Ordered the demon over the yells of the gutted man. Their eyes met as he explained his next movements, "Now while you stay there in what I am sure is agonizing pain, I am going to tear this house apart. I am going to find that knife and when I do," stepping closer to the hunter against wall he lowered his voice. "I am going to wait for your gorgeous girls to return home and use it on them while you choke on your own blood."

"No." Came a gurgled response with blood flying from his mouth. The demon tilted his head to the side and flashed his eyes back to the meat sacks normal brown looking almost sympathetic.

"Tell me where it is and I swear," Placing his hand over what would be his heart, "I will leave and no harm will come to your daughters." He promised softly, eyebrows furrowed in false concern.

Coughing up more blood Wyatt asked amidst heavy breathing, "You won't hurt them?"

"Mr. O'Connell, my word is as good as a Crossroads Demon." The demon flaunted. Knowing his time was running out, if he died before he could tell the demon its location his girls were dead. If he told the demon where the knife was located, many more people would die. However, he had to protect his girls, he had to protect Ada, she was the last O'Connell, the last in a long line of Hunters. She would not die from his mistakes.

Unable to keep his head anymore, Wyatt told the one of the best kept secrets of their family. The demon smiled and nodded his head once, releasing the man from the wall. He fell to the floor face first, his breathing labored as the suited demon turned and made his way to the stairs, to the attic, to the knife, to his promotion.

Using what strength he still possessed, Wyatt crawled through shattered porcelain, trying to get to his gun. He always kept one taped underneath his desk for protection, the desk was in his sight directly across from the dining room. It was terribly slow leaving a trail of blood in his wake, each motion was torture but he had to try. Finally after minutes of hell, his shaking fingers closed around the handle of the Glock, before it could be pulled from its holster the sound of shoes hitting the hardwood floors sounded.

Lift his head, the half dead hunter looked up at the demon who was currently admiring the knife that many times before killed his kind. Not that he cared, it was not common for demons to harbor a sense of loyalty except to their own cause but a heavy hitter was moving in Hell, looking to organize the chaos. This demon wanted to have a seat at the adult table when that happened.

Stashing the knife inside his jacket the demon squatted down on his haunches and smirked at the dying man. "Thank you for your time. Just one more thing before I go…" He paused and stood, adjusting his suit staring down at the pathetic man. "Lilith offers her condolences on your loss."

Wyatt's eyes grew wide. He hadn't heard that name in twenty years, not since he sent her on a one way ticket to Hell. The demon stepped over his body, giving Wyatt a full view of the doorway.

He wailed at the sight of his love, his wife, laying dead at the door. Her eyes still open as her body crumpled on the floor, she never had a chance. The pain in his stomach was forgotten as he stared at his dead wife and cried, screaming her name, cursing, promising to kill the demon. The demon got what he came for and sauntered out the back door before disappearing as if he were never there.

* * *

_Three minutes later_

The old Grand Wagoneer swiftly pulled into the driveway behind a large Ford Truck. Nan slammed on the brakes causing the occupants of the vehicle to lurch forward before she turned off the engine and looked at Ada awaiting her critique.

"That was...much better." Ada forced a smile and shared a look with Faye once Nan had jumped out of the driver seat, happy that she was making progress. Soon she could take her drivers test again and wouldn't have to be chaperoned every time she got behind a wheel. Practically skipping down the walkway, the other girls got out of the vehicle and made their way to the back to unload Ada's suitcase.

Opening the door to the back, Faye turned to Ada and whispered, "She is getting worse."

Nodding in agreement Ada responded, "Yes. It might be better to hire her a driver and be done with it."

They both chuckled while Ada grabbed her suitcase and Faye shut the door. A high pitched scream startled them both and jerked their heads in the direction it came from, the front door. Running towards the front door, they saw Nan frozen in her spot with her eyes fixed on the floor. More screams followed, this time coming from Faye as her legs fell from beneath her upon seeing their dead mother on the in front of the door. Ada was silent, she could process what she was looking at, she didn't know what to do, her mind went blank, and all she could hear was a roaring in her ears, the cries of her younger sisters.

Snapping from her shock, Ada pulled out her cell phone with shaky hands and pressed the device into Faye's hands.

"Call 911!" She shouted to Faye as she pushed Nan away from the body. Flinching at how cold that sounded in her mind, the body, no longer a mother or wife, but an inanimate object. It was clear to see Elle was dead, her head twisted so far it was almost as if she was looking behind her. Faye wasn't moving. Ada snapped, "Faye!" That got her attention.

Faye turned to look into Ada's light brown eyes, her mouth still open with wide eyes filling with tears. Taking a calming breath Ada spoke again, "Call 911 and stand by the car."

Pushing Nan into Faye, she all but corralled them a few feet away until they walked over on their own near robotically. Ada had to find her father. Holding her breath as she stepped over the only woman she knew as a mother, Ada tried not to look down or she would lose whatever was left in her stomach all over the floor. The strong smell of metal hit her nose, it was the unmistakable smell of blood, lots of it. Her gaze caught a large figure laying prone on the floor near her father's desk.

"Oh god." She sobbed and ran towards her father.

Sliding to her knees, she pushed at his left shoulder to roll him over on his back. He was pale with blood soaking into her jeans at her knees and shins, but by some small miracle his brown eyes slowly opened and locked with her own. There was a large hole in his abdomen that was pumping out blood, ripping off her own gray shirt she pressed the cotton material into his wound resulting in a painful moan from the man. Her white undershirt was getting sprayed with blood as he coughed up more blood. Ada knew her father was all but dead as she continued to try and stem the blood flow.

It was strange to see the man she had once thought so strong, so tough, so invincible, now lay on the floor like a marionette unattached to its strings.

"Dad, who...what…who-" Ada stammered, unable to convey the questions that were flying in her head. Using the last vestige of life, Wyatt interrupted his only daughter.

"Run. Take your sisters and run. Don't you ever stop." His words were weak and broken, but the message was strong.

"Run? What do you mean?" Her eyes spelled out her confusion. Run from what? Run from who? The person that did this? What kind of person could do something like this?

Shallow breathing then stopped altogether. Yet she remained pressing the shirt into his open stomach, his blood covering her hands entirely and splashed over her forearms but she would not be moved. Sirens were heard in the distance, they were coming, help was coming. She just had to wait, the paramedics would come and he would be fine, she just had to keep the pressure and wait. Silent tears rained down her face as she tried to keep from falling apart. Her father's last words echoed in her ears as she heard voices from other people, police and paramedics. They tried to speak to her, to get her to move so they could look him over. As strange hands firmly gripped her shoulders and carefully pulled her away from her father, another set of hands pulled her away further.

Words were being spoken but only thing she could hear was her fathers voice begging her to run.

"Run. Run. Run. Run." It played over and over on a loop in her mind, her eyes still fixed on her fathers still face. Run.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

The sun had just begun to set, making the flashing red and blue lights of the ambulance and police cars bounce off the empty features of Ada. After the police arrived, they escorted her from her childhood home where her parents were brutally murdered. It seemed like hours before the bodies of her parents were finally wheeled out in black bags. Why were they in there for so long? How could they leave them in such an undignified manner for hours on end while they stood around and stared? Faye demanded to see them, yelled and cried that she had a right to see her parents.

It wasn't until Ada yanked Faye from the rookie officer standing by the yellow police tape and told her firmly, "You don't want to see them."

Faye was almost horrified at herself, at her behavior. After apologizing profusely with tears dripping from her face, she returned to the ambulance where Nan waited wrapped in a shock blanket. Not a sound had been heard from the youngest Marks girl, she simply sat inside the back of the ambulance and stared at the ground as though it held the secrets to the universe.

Who could blame her?

She saw her mother, the woman who taught her everything she knew in this world, the whole reason she was the person she is today, lying on the floor with her neck twisted nearly completely around. How was someone supposed to see that and continue acting normally? So, as in Nan fashion, she shut down, nearly catatonic. The paramedics wanted to take her to the hospital and have her treated for shock, but she couldn't go anywhere until the detectives acquired her official statement. Granted, they will do that once they stop dicking around inside their home.

That was unfair. Ada knew they were taking this matter very seriously, it was two members of their own community viciously murdered. People were going to be scared of leaving their homes, scared the killer was on loose. Which was a concern of the Ada's as well, were they next? Was it a crime of passion? Burglary gone bad?

No. This was more than a simple burglary, this was personal. Turning her attention to her bloodstained hands, Ada had tried to clean the blood of her father off as much as she could but she had a sinking feeling the blood would never come off. She leaned against the side of the ambulance that had become their temporary home, covered in a jacket one of the uniform police officers were kind enough to provide so she wouldn't be walking around with no shirt. After removing her gray shirt in her futile attempt to save her father, her undershirt was then taken into evidence as it was coated with the blood of the now deceased O'Connell patriarch.

The realization hit her like freight train: she was an orphan, they all were orphans. Her father and the only mother she ever knew was dead, not just dead, mutilated. A flash of her father lying on the ground, insides spilled outside, caused Ada to nearly retch. That would be the final memory she had of him.

Swallowing down the bile that nearly escaped her mouth, the sound of boots crunching on the gravel caught her attention. It was Detective What's-his-name, he looked old, haggard, probably from the stresses of his job. With the sunset at his back, he approached Nan.

"Ms. Marks? I know this is a difficult time," He paused, keeping his voice low and soft, "But I need to ask you a few questions about what happened here."

Flipping out his little notebook and gripping a pen, he waited for Nan to respond. Only she continued to sit and stare into the distance at everything and nothing all at the same time. God only knew what was going on behind her brown eyes, in the sensitive mind of hers. Ada could only hope this tragedy did not change her compassionate nature into something hard and cold.

Putting herself between the Detective and her sisters, Ada drew his attention.

"She doesn't know anything." Ada defended catching his gaze, effectively cutting off any communication with her traumatized sisters. "I saw it all, ask me what you want." Lips pursed, ready to relive the horror once again if it meant leaving her sisters out of it all. The young woman, who now felt much older, didn't know where this barely controlled urge to protect her sisters had come from. Yes, she loved them with everything she had, but growing up Ada never subscribed to the role of Protector.

However, Wyatt's immortal last words left Ada feeling apprehensive of every person they had come into contact. Her father spent his dying breath trying to warn her, warn her of someone intending to do them harm. It could be anyone, but surely they were safe surrounded by law enforcement? Probably. She was just being paranoid. Although she wouldn't truly feel safe until Uncle Bob came.

Just after the police escorted them to the ambulance to wait, Faye made a call to Uncle Bob. That was about an hour ago, he should be there in a few more hours.

"I know this is a difficult time, so I will try to make these questions as brief as possible." The Detective began while they walked away from her sisters. Ada didn't want them to overhear any of the gruesome detail, it was bad enough the scene kept playing over and over in her mind.

"First off, did your father have any enemies?"

Pulling the jacket tighter around her frame, Ada pondered his question before answering. "No." A shake of her head made her change her answer, strangely worried she might say the wrong thing and the person who did this might get away.

"Yes...uh I don't know, maybe." Dragging her fingers through her long dark hair, hopefully hiding the fact they were trembling.

"Look," She paused to take a calming breath. "He may not have been the easiest guy to be around, but he certainly didn't deserve this." Throwing a hand to gesture to what she couldn't yet speak of, it was all still too fresh. The Detective nodded immediately before laying a hand on her right shoulder and giving a light squeeze.

"No one does ma'am." He comforted.

Seeming to care deeply for the tragedy though he didn't know the family personally. Any human being would be sickened by what happened inside this otherwise beautiful home. Furniture strewn about, glasses littering the ground from shattered dishware, it was clear a bloody fight ensued. It was the Detectives hope that some of the blood seeping into the floor was not only from the male victim but also from the assailant. He could use it to catch this sum'bitch and bring some closure to these girls left orphaned. They weren't children, they were clearly adults, 'round about the age of his own son, but it was difficult not to see them as young children when they appeared utterly lost and destroyed.

Opening his mouth to continue with the questioning, the young woman beat him to the punch and asked her own question.

"What human being could do something like this?" Though she wasn't looking at him, instead her focus was entirely on the circus that was now her childhood home, the senior Detective could feel the question burn through his chest.

He didn't have any answer to give. Judging by the almost complete lack of evidence, trace or otherwise, chance were he never would be able to solve her parents murder. Thinking back to his rookie days it was important to never make promises you couldn't keep, he was going to have to dance around the a suitable answer. One that will placate the family of the victim as well as give them some kind of hope for justice.

"I don't know, Miss O'Connell." He pauses, closing his little notebook and putting it back inside the jacket of his suit. "But we are doing all we can to find out."

That was about as good a promise he was able to provide. Clearing his throat, he spoke again.

"Do you have someone to stay with? A relative? A friend?" Desperately hoping they did in fact have a person to rely on, he didn't want to have to bring them back to station.

It would do nothing for their healing if they had no kind of support system. Plus, he didn't want to have to see their broken faces as they waited for who knows how long it would take for Forensics to clear out.

The question snapped Ada from her gaze as she turned back to the Detective, wiping away the silent tears from her cheeks with both hands. 'Pull it together.' She kept repeating to herself, now was the time to be strong.

"Yeah," She sniffed, "...um…my uncle is coming down. Should be here in a few hours."

Lifting her hand to push the hair from her face, Ada thought about when Uncle Bob would arrive. He would be heart broken for sure, but Ada and her sisters desperately needed a source of strength to feed off. Something tangible to hold them up, right now Ada was trying to be that rock but as time passed and they sat in front of the place that used to hold many loving memories, she was feeling her front beginning to waiver.

"Good. Good." He repeated awkwardly.

"Well…" Gesturing behind him, Ada saw a young male officer, didn't look a day over 20, come forward. "Officer Burns here will keep you three company until your uncle arrives."

Giving Ada a solemn 'keep your chin up' nod, he walked away towards his awaiting colleagues to share the information he acquired. Both the young officer and the young woman returned to the ambulance where her sisters sat, huddled together. Catching both of their gazes, Ada tried to smile, hopefully to convey some kind of strength, but it only revealed to be a tight grimace. Firmly grabbing their hands in each of her own, Ada gave a tight squeeze and leaned in to wrap them both into her arms.

A hug was all she could offer at the moment. No promise for justice, no assurance everything was going to be okay; nothing but a show of comfort and strength.

* * *

The Roadhouse was in full swing when owner Helen got the call.

"Hey Ellen, can I get that refill?" Shouted an old, haggard man while waving his shot glass in the air.

Ellen shook her head and slammed a few bottles of beer on the bar before reaching out to pour the old man another round of whiskey. Despite the holidays coming up, the Roadhouse is packed. Then again, most of these hunters don't have families to return to on Thanksgiving. Its the typical hunter tragedy, most of them get their start after some creature of the night kills a wife, husband, child, parent. A never ending cycle, when one hunter dies there is always some other poor bastard ready to take his place thirsty for their own personal revenge.

More yells from the other side of the bar, demanding their drink, her baby Jo was moving as fast as she could but it clearly wasn't fast enough for these surly men. Hollers for drinks, clashing of glass on glass, sounds of a scuffle breaking out, phone ringing, Ash crying out in victory at the pool table. Ellen was being pulled in several directions and it was beginning to piss her off.

Fed up she slammed her right hand on the bar, a loud resounding smack effective silenced most of the patrons. Heads snapped over to the matured woman narrow her eyes and scan the room. The old man at the edge of the bar who had previously yelled for his drink snapped his jaw shut at her glaring. Though most of the people here have seen and done their fair share of scary things, Ellen Harvelle was still a fearsome thing to behold.

Breathing in the quiet, she took a moment before lifting the receiver of the phone. Pressing it to her chest for a beat, the room filled with murmurs as things began to return to normal. Lifting it to her face she spoke, "Roadhouse, Ellen speaking." Flicking her blonde hair from her face.

"Ellen? Its Bobby." His gravel voice came through.

"Bobby! Good to hear from ya. How ya doin'?" Cradling the phone between her head and shoulder as she began to fill glasses with beer.

"I need you to get somewhere private." Bobby didn't usually ask for privacy, the man was typically an open book.

However, his voice sounded off, solemn, for once she did as she was told and stepped into her office which was located right off the bar. Leaning her hip against the desk she waited with bated breath.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" She questioned hurriedly.

"I'm fine. Its not me." While she was assured, Ellen couldn't help but notice his choice of words.

"Who?" She breathed, dropping her head to her chest.

Praying the Winchester boys hadn't been hurt, though she had only met them a few months ago, Ellen couldn't help but feel protective. Forgetting how her man Anthony died, John Winchester was still a dear friend even in death.

She could hear Bobby's hard swallow as if he were trying to summon the courage to tell her something awful.

"Its uh…" His voice wavered.

The sound of the phone being dropped caused Ellen to breath a little more rapidly, if something caused Bobby Singer, the bravest and hardest man she knew to tremble then it must be huge.

"Its Wyatt. He's gone."

Her heart plummeted to the bottom of her stomach as tears flooded her eyes. It had been about five years since Wyatt O'Connell stepped into the Roadhouse but they kept in touch every once in awhile via telephone. Wiping away the tears that slid down her face, Ellen could hear Bobby saying her name, asking if she was okay.

Clearing her throat, she finally answered, "Yeah, I'm here." Holding back her tears, she was afraid to ask about his girls. Afraid of what Bobby might say.

"The girls?" Walking around to her desk chair, Ellen slouched.

"No, they are fine. Well," he paused, "...as well as can be expected. Elle didn't make it either." That caused Ellen to drop the phone all together and hold her head in her hands as she softly cried.

She had been friends with Elle since college, before Anthony, before Wyatt, before everything when they were just young girls looking for adventure.

Elle was then entire reason Wyatt quit the business, one of the few hunters to actually get out alive. It took Ellen a moment to collect herself before she scrambled to pick the phone off the floor.

"Ellen, I am leaving a job right now but I won't be there until late. I was hoping you could-"

"Yeah, I'll fly out immediately." She interrupted and started straighten her desk.

Grabbing a pen and paper she began to make a list of things she needed to do and things Jo would need to do in her absence. A knock on her door did not deter her movements in the slightest. Jo walked in and sat in the fold out chair in front of her mom's desk. Clearly her mother was in a hurry and tense judging by the way she gripped her pen as she scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Tilting her head in confusion, Jo asked, "Everything okay?"

"No," Ellen looked up from her tasked and locked eyes with her little girl, well she wasn't so little anymore. "Honey, I have to fly to Texas. I'm gonna be gone a few days, so I want you to close down the bar 'til I get back."

"What?" Jo asked confused. "Why do you have to go to Texas? What's wrong?"

"You're Uncle Wyatt and Aunt Elle died." Her mother sighed.

While Jo sat stunned in her chair trying to process the news she was given, her mother didn't seem to miss a beat. Leaving her office through the back door, Jo launched from her chair and followed after her mother.

"How? When? How?" She began to fire question after question, trailing her mother as she marched through their small home attached to the bar.

Despite the dark hallways, leading straight ahead to a tiny living room it was still a home. A worn in couch sitting in front of the medium sized TV with pictures scattered along the walls. One of a little girl in blonde pigtails and a crooked smile on the shoulders of a handsome man in a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a baseball cap. It was one of Ellen's favorite photos, taken a couple of weeks before he left for a job with John Winchester and never came back.

Turning at the small kitchen, Ellen stepped into her room and yanked her suitcase from underneath a pile of shoes and clothing on the bottom of her closet. Throwing it on her bed, absent of any finesse, she began to quickly toss clothing inside. Moving around her room in a flurry as her young daughter Jo stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She hadn't seen her mother like this since her little adventure with Dean and Sam, and truthfully it was beginning to worry Jo.

Uncle Wyatt and Aunt Elle. Dead. If her mother would just stop for a moment and tell her how then maybe Jo could help. Needing to do something, Jo marched to her mother and pulled on her left arm effectively stopping the older woman in her tracks. Tears welled behind Ellen's broken eyes and Jo immediately embraced her mother tight just as her lip began to tremble.

They both slowly sat on the edge of the bed as Ellen cried into her daughter's shoulder. It finally hit, she had just lost her best friend. She had known Elle since college, the longest she ever knew anyone. Gone. Just like that. Bobby never said how they died and she didn't ask.

Given Wyatt's history though, they likelihood of it all spelled out one word: supernatural. It had to be that. Then again, this was Wyatt O'Connell. It had to be something big to take him down. And this did not bode well for the girls he left behind. They had to be taken somewhere safe, but first and foremost, Ellen had to get to them.

Patting Jo on her back, a signal to her daughter that she pulled herself together, the two separated. Clearing her throat, Ellen slowly stood and resumed her packing albeit less frenzied than moments ago. The young blonde just sat and watched her mother concerned. Jo sighed and stood to begin folding some of the clothes that were thrown about hazardously.

A few silent moments later their task was complete and Ellen zipped up the suitcase, peaking up to lock eyes with her little girl, granted she wasn't little anymore. All she wanted to do since Jo was born was to protect her from the world, protect her from anything that might want to do her harm. Not to boast but Ellen believed she had done a pretty good job of it so far. She then realized Ada, Faye, and Nan had no one to protect them anymore. The big bad found a way through their champion, Wyatt, and now they needed help, fast.

* * *

The sun had set hours ago and yet the crime scene was still in full swing. Police uniforms walking around speaking into their radios, some standing guard along the yellow tape to keep the large amount of spectators from crossing. Their front yard was filled with their neighbors all straining their necks hoping to catch a peek at the spectacle. Although some of the older community members at least had the good graces to appear heartbroken but mostly they were all a picture of fear. Scared that whoever brought harm to the O'Connells was on the loose, looking for their next victim.

Rumors of the savagery spread to the bystanders and they clutched to their loved ones all the tighter. Acts of this heinousness simply didn't happen in their small carved out land of the panhandle in Texas. The most you would see is someone losing a hand to the wood chipper but nothing of a person having their heads twisted nearly off and their entrails spilling from their stomach.

No one was allowed to approach Ada and the Marks sisters unless they were wearing a badge, according to the lead detective. News personnel were certainly trying their damnedest to secure some kind of statement from the children of the deceased who discovered the bodies. However, there was no getting to them as they were safely tucked away in the far corner of the property surrounded by policemen as if they had their own private security.

No matter, the new up and coming field reporter Rachel Gardner was not about to be deterred if she wanted the coveted anchor position before she turned thirty-five. Though, Rachel was nothing if not determined and resourceful; she had to get something, anything, it would mean a fat raise and bragging rights for the next year or at the very least until something else big comes along. This could be big, like CNN big and if she played her cards right then the young blonde would be famous. Her assignments as of late had been small time, Mickey Mouse, coverage of local garden competitions and high school sports, with this exclusive, her producer Martin would finally have to take her seriously.

At this point Rachel was practically salivating at the possibilities but there was still one obstacle she needed to overcome, the yellow tape accompanied by no less than six police security. As she began to survey the policemen like a predator looking for the weakest member, the blonde picked the young rookie, who was standing especially close to the oldest of the three girls, as her source inside. That boy didn't look like he belonged out of high school and a little flirting coupled with a little cleavage would go a long way for her career.

Strolling to her vehicle parked along the other news vans, Rachel jumped in the back seat and grabbed her duffle bag which she always kept full with a change of clothing for emergencies.

_'This definitely qualifies as an emergency.'_ She thought to herself while quickly stripping of her normal day-to-day clothing into something a bit more provocative.

In the midst of her changing, Rachel knew she couldn't just shove a tape recorder in the young officer's face and ask who did it. Thanks to technology however, the voice recorder on her cell phone would do nicely, she would simply have to be discreet.

Dumping the clothes on the back seat, Rachel looked at her options. One pile was the typical business suit she used to conduct official interviews, however this situations requires a bit more finesse. Even an idiot could tell she was a reporter in that outfit but the other pile consisting of her gym clothes would do just fine.

Rachel knew she was gorgeous, its one the many reason no one in her office takes her seriously. Every morning before dawn she exercises rigorously and eats like a rabbit when she would rather have a hefty slice of cheesecake. Since those habits of hers grace her with a stop-traffic body, she can find it in herself to abstain from the cheesecake. Slipping on the second skin that is her black yoga pants and light pink sports bra, Rachel shook out her hair from the professional updo and let it fall in golden waves around her slim, long neck.

After putting the finishing touches, she grabbed her cell phone and set it to record before lightly jogging toward the secluded corner of the front yard. The oldest of the three women, Ada O'Connell daughter of Wyatt and stepdaughter to Elle, was leaning against the side of the ambulance just out of sight of her stepsisters and the other officers. The young officer stood near her, shoulders slouched and every bit the awkward boy that didn't know what to do with himself in front of a pretty girl. Rachel was not ashamed to say that Ada O'Connell was a rare beauty with her full lips, long honey brown tresses that fell over her shoulders and to the middle of her back. Even in the oversized police jacket, Ada remained gorgeous especially with her large, sad brown eyes.

On any other day Rachel would have certainly made a pass at the sad woman, she was easy pickings and a few well placed words would have Ada eating out of the palm of her hand. Today was all business, unfortunately, and now she had to work her magic on the boy playing dress up in a police uniform. A slight shudder of disgust spread through her tight body, the reporter would rather have the soft hands of a woman on her body than that of the meaty fingers of an over eager man. This was her job however, she was just going to have to get over it for the time being and then immediately take a shower so she could feel clean once again.

Stopping just before she got into sight of the officer, Rachel quickly adjusted her full breast so they popped a little more out of the sports bra than usual and pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail to bring attention to her uncovered skin milky skin. Tossing her cell phone into the grass just slightly ahead of her place where she hid, Rachel took a few deep breaths and turned on her acting chops before stepping out into full view of the isolated man and woman.

* * *

Deep breaths Frankie, just take deep breaths and try not to make eye contact. This mantra consumed Officer Francis Burns as he stood near the attractive Ada O'Connell. His sergeant assigned him to her protection detail until they were able to leave the crime scene and to say he didn't do well around beautiful women was an understatement. He had a tendency to freeze up and stutter like he never formed a sentence in his life. One good thing about this detail is he didn't have to maintain a conversation with the young woman, she was still in shock from finding her parents dead.

It was pretty brutal, Frankie was able to catch a quick peek before the coroner took the bodies back to the city morgue. It was like a Quentin Tarantino movie with the blood spatter all around the dining room not to mention how the wife had her head nearly twisted off. The guy who did this must be pretty freaking sick in the head and now he was out there on the streets. Just because Frankie was an officer of the law didn't mean he wasn't freaked the hell out but he had to remain calm and cool or his sergeant would put him back on desk duty.

Releasing a long breath, the rookie glanced around from his charge, Ada, to the area behind all of the commotion. His hands dangled loosely by his sides as if he were unsure what he should do. It wasn't hard, stand near the victims and make sure no one bothers them. Basically a babysitter. Ada O'Connell wasn't a hard person to look after. All she has done since she finished speaking with the detective was sit on the ground with her knees pulled into her chest and bury her head in her arms. Given the circumstances, the mere fact that she isn't crying hysterically or mumbling incoherently to herself is a miracle. Any other person would probably be going batshit crazy at this point.

Lifting his gaze from the reclusive young woman, Frankie caught sight of a thing of beauty.

Gazing slack jawed at the obviously female form currently on her hands and knees, his mouth began to salivate. Swallowing the drool before it could escape his mouth, the young man began to furiously wipe his already sweaty palms on his uniform pants. Her spandex clad bottom was perfect, round and pert, sticking straight into the air. She was looking for something judging by the way she was slowly crawling side to side, almost sweeping the grass below.

Clearing his dry throat, Frankie murmured a promise of return to his charge and proceeded to pseudo-strut his way to the sexy little damsel in distress.

Swallowing the hard lump in his throat once more, his voice slightly quaked as he spoke, "Ex-excuse me? Miss?"

A blonde head snapped around to look over her left shoulder and Frankie could not help but imagine this same position but in a more naked and private environment. He immediately looked away as heat rushed up his neck to his boyish face and scratched the back of his pale neck, it was a nervous habit of his. While looking away from the beautiful blonde woman, Frankie heard a soft giggle and turned to see the woman standing from the ground.

"Oh my Officer, I'm so sorry." She still chuckled while batting her eyes and fidgeted with her tight top trying to adjust her generous bosom.

His eyes immediately shot from her chest to the grass, hoping she didn't catch him looking.

Clearing his throat, his voice quaked as he tried to use his Cop Voice.

"Ahem...ma'am. I am afraid I am going to ask you to move back…" Lifting shaking arms, he gestured dramatically towards the opposite end of the perimeter appearing as if he were directing a 747 instead of a young woman.

She tilted her head to the right and pulled on the end of her ponytail while clutching a hand that was holding an cellphone to her chest. The young cop swallowed hard as he once again couldn't help but stare at her full breast practically falling out of the bright pink sports bra.

"I'm sorry, its just I run by here and I must have dropped my phone." Holding up the cellphone in her hand and wiggled it.

Her voice was slightly high-pitched, like Christmas bells tinkling. When she said the word run, his wandering eyes once again travelled to his favorite places on a woman, her legs. They were slim but obviously firm from all the running, Frankie would guess.

"Wow, I've never met a cop before. At least not one as handsome as you." She flirted and revealed a large smile.

Heat rose up his face and Frankie returned the smile with a wave of his hand as if to brush off her compliment.

He giggled softly and spoke, "Well, I wouldn't say handsome but…" Shaking his head, Frankie got down to business.

"Uh ma'am, this is a uh...restricted area. See there has been a crime committed and uh...you can't be here. Police business." He finished and put both hands on his utility belt trying to complete the police stance he practiced during his time at the academy.

The woman gasped and held a her empty hand to her chest, drawing his attention once more.

"Oh that's just horrible. Is everyone okay?" Her question sounded so concerned. That was awfully nice of her to care so deeply about people she probably didn't even know.

"Yeah!" Replied Frankie before he could think. "Well, no. Got a couple of bodies done up real nasty." Shutting his eyes, the cop visibly cringed at his choice of words.

There was simply no filter when it came to talking with beautiful women.

The young woman's blue eyes widened in fear. Now Frankie was more determined to soothe her.

Waving his hands to as if he could physically placate her, he continued, "Oh no need to worry."

Nodding self-assuredly, "We're gonna catch this sicko."

"You don't know who he is?" She asked timidly. Poor girl was scared out of her mind.

"Not yet. But we got all hands on deck. And the husband was practically gutted so there is bound to be some evidence somewhere." He explained calmly, giving no thought to him telling a civilian information of an ongoing investigation.

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief before she lightly chortled and held out her delicate hand.

"I'm being so rude. My name is Jessie and you are?" 'Jessie' introduced flashing her pearly whites. She had a long, beautiful smile that encompassed her entire face. This woman was breathtaking.

"Officer Francis Burns ma'am. At your service." Frankie answered and returned with a shaky smile of his own.

Frankie didn't have much going for him except his height of six feet tall and he was by no means smooth, but the uniform always attracted the ladies. It was once the man inside the uniform began to speak that they tended to run away.

Jessie slowly ran her tongue over her full lips and stepped a little closer to the yellow police tape that acted as a barrier.

"So, what happened here exactly?" She asked while batting those long eyelashes.

"Umm, I'm not really supposed to say." He admitted. "Ongoing investigation and everything."

Taking a comical look around, she focused back on Frankie.

"Oh come on," She encouraged and brushed a piece of invisible lint off his shoulders. "I won't tell a soul." Whispering with a wink and her full lips forming into a smirk.

Jessie realized Frankie still seemed a bit hesitant, so she decided to sweeten the pot.

"Tell you what," She began and was practically pressing her lithe body against his which elicited quite the physical response in the form of Frankie almost not breathing.

"You can tell me a little now and tell me the rest over dinner. Tonight." She punctuated while gliding her empty hand along the front of his uniform.

Over his barely formed pecks only to settle on the buckle of his pants. It was a promise of things to come, things Frankie desperately wanted from this blonde bombshell.

The young officer took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and look around to make sure no other superior officers were in the vicinity. It was bad enough he was neglecting his assignment of staying close to the O'Connell girl but now he was actually about to divulge information of a brutal double homicide to a civilian. An enticing civilian he would like to see more of and hopefully will.

Staring into her big cerulean eyes, it took one more smile from her to completely shatter his training and loyalty to the police force.

"Alright," He sighed, "So, it looks like a home invasion gone wrong. Wife had her neck snapped, like eyes in the back of her head style. And the husband put up a fight but dude was gutted like Braveheart."

'Jessie' looked positively gleeful at his description of the crime. Does she get off on horror stories? Not that it really mattered considering how hot she is, she can get turned on by House of 1000 Corpses as long as Frankie was around when it came time to get down to business.

She let out a whoosh of air and lifted her beautifully sculpted eyebrows with a smirk.

"So about dinner-" Frankie suggested, but before he could finish she stuck her phone to her ear and began to speak into it.

This confused Frankie, he didn't even hear it ring. Must have been on vibrate. Mouthing 'sorry', Jessie walked swiftly away and left the rookie cop to stand near the police tape by himself, absolutely dumfounded. He watched as the young, buxom blonde scampered away without so much as a backward glance.

"What the hell?" He muttered to himself before hearing a quiet sniffle from behind.

It was then the rookie officer remembered his duty and immediately hastened back to his post. His head swept the area around them both to make sure no superior officers saw him talking to a civilian and basically abandoning his charge.

The O'Connell girl was in the same position he left her in to go flirt, knees drawn into her chest, hiding her face in her arms still covered in the police loaned jacket.

* * *

A/N: It has been awhile indeed since my last post, but this thing is gonna take a long time. Thank you to the people who have followed Evil Walks and stay tuned for more, hopefully you won't have to wait as long for the next update. Reviews are most certainly welcome!

Constance Bleu


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